Diamonds And Rust
by Browneyedbagel
Summary: Just another day for Tom, who would like nothing more than his wife Daria to answer the phone.


Characters from Daria are the property of their respective owners; no monetary gain is made here.

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He glanced at the alarm clock and groaned. He didn't want it to be six in the morning; but there wasn't much he could do about it. Tom turned the alarm off and with some effort he forced himself to sit up. As his eyes adjusted to the poor light conditions he managed to find his cell phone. He triggered his first speed dial number as he stood up. A few rings later a voice could be heard.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."

He hung up and walked out of the bedroom into the adjacent bathroom. He treated himself to an extended hot shower; an incentive to have a productive weekend. He paused in front of the mirror and started to shave when he re-dialed Daria's cell. He got in a few razor strokes when he heard her voice.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."

Tom hung up and finished grooming himself. He grumbled a bit when he noticed a few nicks on his neck. Putting them out of his head; he went back into the bedroom and dressed himself. He didn't have any plans to leave the house and dressed himself accordingly. Some simple pants and a long sleeve shirt and very comfortable slippers and he was ready for his routine. He stepped out of the bedroom and tried the cell again. As he stepped into the kitchen he got the answering message again.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."

Tom hung up and decided on toast. He helped himself to the last two pieces of stone ground wheat bread. He wondered how her morning conference had gone. He started his toast and went through the fridge looking for jam. He paused in front of a pair of jars and decided on plum. He took out the jar and looked at a small container of substitute butter spread and left it neglected. He was going to have the real thing today. Tom glanced at the toaster's contents; not quite toast yet. He grabbed a lonely half stick of butter and placed the objects on the table. He paused and tried her cell again. As he found a plate he heard her voice again.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."

He hung up the phone and fished out a knife. His toast came up and he swore to himself. He meant to get a new one last night. The left slice was burnt a bit on the left side. Not that it bothered him much to have overdone toast; a faulty appliance was a fire hazard. He quickly prepared his light breakfast and put away the butter and jam and took his time eating. After all was said and done he rinsed his dishes and looked at his cell phone. He paused and tried calling again. After a few rings he heard Daria again.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."

He hung up and left the small kitchen. He made his way to a well kept office and seated himself at a simple wooden desk. Well; a cheap almost wood desk anyway. It was actually one of those desks made of what almost looked like wood that you had to assemble yourself. He thought fondly on the afternoon that they put it together. Damn thing came missing two pieces; and an extra keyboard tray. He looked at a pile of mail; some of it consisted of bills. He set his cell phone on the table and tried calling Daria again. He fished through the pile and sorted out who wanted their money and he heard his wife again.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."

Tom hung up the phone and set it aside. He opened a desk drawer and grabbed the checkbook. First expense was the power bill. He filled out a check and sealed it in an envelope with the bill's payment stub and moved on to the next parcel. He went along his task for awhile; he wanted to get everything taken care of so that he wouldn't need to think about it for the rest of the month. He got to the end of the pile, the bill from his phone service provider. He dialed Daria again as he opened the envelope it came in. He filled out the check and his wife's voice came into his ear again.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."

Tom hung up the phone and finished his task. He was surprised that this wasn't on top of the pile. Their cell phones made up the most important expense. Ever since the accident her answering message was the only source of her voice. If it got disconnected he would never hear her again.

Tom leaned back in his chair and called her phone again. He could hear her phone vibrating in one of the drawers.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."

Tom hung up. He wondered how her conference went. She left by plane four years ago for a meeting in Toronto and forgot her cell phone at home. He called ahead to leave a message at her hotel room to let her know that he found the phone; and that evening he got a call from someone saying that she was struck by a vehicle. He remembered how heavy he felt when he heard that she didn't make it.

He sighed heavily as he called her number again.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."

Tom hung up. He wanted to hear it again.

"Hey, you've reached Daria Sloane. You know what to do."


End file.
